


Adore Me

by Dresupi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Companionable Snark, F/M, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Post-Hogwarts, Snark, Snarky Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25283434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Draco's attempt at a Muggle Marriage Proposal.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 23
Kudos: 119
Collections: Dresupi's Dramione Fics, Dresupi's Sweetheart Prompts





	Adore Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mon_cherie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mon_cherie/gifts).



> _Edit: July 22, 2020: I'd like to take the time to state that while I do dabble in her sandbox, I do NOT condone JKR's statements concerning trans women. Trans women ARE women. Trans men ARE men. Nonbinary identities ARE valid. Just because JKR wrote this book series, doesn't mean she gets to dictate how we perceive it, or how we enjoy it. If you found something in it that was good, or that made you feel good, know that it's valid. Regardless of the garbage she continues to spew. The fandom has always been the best part of this universe._
> 
>   
> 

_I’d love to._

Draco had set a dangerous precedent.

Or at least, to him, it appeared that way. Nearly a year before, he’d been biding his time, working with Granger, and slowly showing her that he was a changed man. Or really, that he was a _man_ with differing ideals from the snot-nosed brat of a child he had been.

Merlin, when he thought about himself in school, he visibly cringed. Never mind what happened when he saw the dark mark on his arm. He wore long sleeves to cover it up, but sometimes, the very knowledge that it was there at all kept him up at night. He’d been working off an evil, fascist delusion, brought on by godlike worship of his father. A father who rotted in Azkaban as he, himself, stood free.

A father who would likely never know his son’s heart. Or see his son truly happy. Draco was fine with that. Lucius deserved nothing of the sort.

But it was still there. Still heavily present as he approached Granger long ago, on that day, exactly one year before. He’d known there was a very strong possibility that she’d turn him down. But he had to try. She smelled so good, and she was so beautiful it hurt. He’d known it was imperative that he at least make the attempt.

So he’d asked Hermione Granger to dinner. Draco’s words hung stationary in the silence for what felt like ages before she responded. With a smile, she nodded. “I’d love to.”

Ever since that day Draco had felt as if he were living someone else’s life. Someone who was good. Someone who deserved to have this goddess of a woman to wake up next to every morning. Who deserved to choke down her awful pancakes that she refused to make with magic. Who deserved to have her forgiveness surround him like a warm blanket in the middle of a big freeze.

She felt warm. Her love was warmth, and he wanted nothing more than to give her something half as warm as she was.

That was why he’d planned this proposal. It wasn’t the way wix had done it, well… ever. They were usually small affairs, an agreement made in the company of both party’s parents. They’d agree upon marrying, set a date, and let their parents know all in one go.

It had become a sort of spectacle in its own way over the years, with one partner or the others’ parents trying to plan more and more opulent settings for the discussion to take place.

Pansy’s, for instance, had taken place at her parents’ holiday home in Maui. Which hadn’t necessarily won over Neville Longbottom’s grandmother, but he supposed they all got a nice holiday out of it at any rate.

But seeing as their circumstances were different than most everyone else, he had decided on a proposal to match. One that was decided more muggle in nature.

It was why he’d rented out the very same restaurant where they’d had their first dinner together exactly a year before. It was also where he’d stolen a kiss on the sidewalk outside while they said the world’s longest good night.

And it was where he was going to ask her to be his wife.

Every time he thought about it, he felt like he had bats swirling in his belly, flapping their wings and tickling him from the inside. His wife. Her husband. For the rest of their lives.

Merlin, it was a lot. Not _too_ much, mind. It was something they’d both discussed in the way of the vaguely distant ‘someday’. It was Draco who’d taken it upon himself to define someday as today.

He’d hired a band. Well, he’d hired a bunch of enchanted instruments to serenade them throughout the meal. It was just as good as a band.

Draco had even thought to order the same food they’d each ordered that night.

 _And_ he had a ring.

Another muggle custom that wix didn’t take part in. Well, there _was_ a ring. But it was a ring with the family crest on it. The ring that indicated you were now under the protection of the other’s family. And both partners received one. It wasn’t anything old or antique usually. It was the trend now for the mothers to design crest rings for their child’s partner.

But considering his family were the Malfoys, he didn’t want to assume that Granger would be stepping under their canopy of protection. If anyone was being protected, it was him.

He couldn’t imagine his mother was too broken up about not designing a ring for Hermione. Not that she didn’t like her, because she did. A lot. Took her on shopping trips all the bloody time. On weekends when Draco would rather have his witch all to himself.

But his mother had gone back to her maiden name and started giving away so much of her family money left to her via inheritance, that the name Black now incited passivity, rather than heavy cringing.

Mum would likely agree with him that to place Hermione under the protection of either name would only tarnish hers.

So that left him with the ring he’d chosen from a shop in Muggle London. One he’d found thanks to Hermione’s best friend and his old nemesis, Potter.

The ring was done in rose gold, and Potter had said something about blood diamonds and wrinkled his nose in a grimace. And even though blood diamonds sounded fascinating as hell, Draco ceded to Harry’s judgment and opted for a different stone. He chose a purple one that glittered in the light, an amethyst, according to the jeweler.

He’d been very patient with Draco as he’d chosen the setting and the cut. And now that the finished ring was in his pocket, he found he could scarcely breathe.

Hermione arrived promptly at seven but didn’t realise that he’d rented out the entire restaurant for the evening and thus, waited outside for him to arrive. The Maître-d’ informed him of this snafu, and once he went out to meet her and insisted that the restaurant was indeed open, they were swiftly seated at the table he’d chosen.

She looked around for a long moment. “You rented out the dining room.”

“You always were a clever one, Granger,” he deadpanned.

“This is the place where we first ate together,” she continued. “I obviously remember that. And since today is our anniversary, you decided to make it special?”

“Indeed.” He waited to see if she’d guess the rest of it, but instead, she took a sip of her wine and looked round.

“It’s rather quiet when there’s no one else, isn’t it?”

“Would you rather there be more noise?”

“Almost. I can hear your thoughts. I can’t make them out, but I can hear them.”

“That would make you the world’s worst legilimens.”

She peered at him but had no more guesses. It was then that their food arrived at the table.

“Wait, I never ordered--” Her quizzical face broke into a grin when she saw what slid in front of her. “This is what we ate last time.”

“Is it?”

“It is, you romantic old sod.” She nudged him under the table with her foot.

He was going to wait until dessert arrived, but he just couldn’t any longer. He reached for her hand.

“Granger?”

“Malfoy?”

“You know you’re absolutely the best--”

“I’d love to,” she interrupted.

“What?” He frowned, looking down at her hand. What had he said?

“Move into your flat? That’s what you’re asking? I mean, I practically live there anyway--”

As much as he loved to wax poetic about Granger, she never failed to take flying leaps from the pedestal he placed her on and kick his arse on the way down.

Merlin help him, he adored her.

“You insufferable know-it-all, I’m trying to ask you to marry me, Granger.”

She froze then, looking down at their joined hands and back into his eyes. “What… here? What about your mother, and my parents? Isn’t this supposed to be--”

“A symbolic pile of garbage, yes. But instead, I thought the better way to do it would be to insult you and then propose. I nailed it, didn’t I?”

She laughed and squeezed his hand. “You absolutely did, you horrible prat.”

“So will you?”

“Will I what?” Her smile was infectious and he pulled the ring out of his pocket, holding it out to her.

“Marry me?”

“Of course I will, bloody git.” She took the ring from him and slid it on her finger. It looked fantastic, glittering in the low light. “Can I kiss you now, or will that mess up the dancing flatware bringing out our second course?”

He stood and she practically leaped into his arms, wrapping hers around him as their lips found each other almost by instinct. “Hate to break it to you, but there’s no dancing flatware.”

“Damn it all, and to think this was almost a perfect evening,” she teased.

“I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you, Draco.”

He kissed her softly once more. “I could enchant the dishes to do a little dance for you at home.”

She chuckled. “I’d rather if _you_ did a little dance for me at home.”

“I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo! Sorry this is late!


End file.
